You *Can* Go Home Again
by Dr. Breifs Cat
Summary: After the war, Heero's past catches up with him. Rating for language.


**You _Can_ Go Home Again**

"I thought I might find you here."

Heero Yuy recognized the voice, so he turned to look at the speaker. Utilizing the skills he had sworn off after the close of the war, he forced his face to remain indifferent.

"Hn," he responded.

"You're quite difficult to find, you know. Even when you're not hiding."

"Those who really look have yet to have a problem," he said, not knowing entirely if anyone who had managed to hunt him down in the past had trouble in doing so. It had happened enough, so he supposed not.

"I hear you're calling yourself 'Heero' now," his companion continued. "Not what I would have chosen for you, but I suppose it suits your purpose."

"My purpose?" he questioned, insulted. Of course he knew what the new comer was referring to, but to act as though it was all he was capable of... He knew it to be true, but to hear it from someone else... 

"I was under the impression saving the colonies was all you cared about, all that mattered to you now."

"Were you?" he semi-asked, semi-stated.

"You could have visited, M--Heero. You could have said good-bye, said where you were going, that you'd be all right, not to worry."

"Would it have mattered if I did?"

"Of course! I did worry, you know."

"Did you," he murmured. 

"Heero," the name was said carefully, "just because I couldn't be there after your father and I divorced, doesn't mean I didn't--don't care about you."

The young soldier's jaw clenched.

"Trying isn't good enough for the courts, and I did try, please, believe that."

Heero snorted. "But my father, renting his son out to assassins to pay gambling debts, _that_ was good enough for the courts?"

"They didn't know, _I_ didn't know, until that man you were working with was killed."

"How did you find out after Odin died?"

"Your grandfather, he called, told me that the courts let him take you, I thought you would be all right with him."

"What did he tell you? Did he mention his private war? The mobile suits? The damned codes he put everywhere?"

"He made it sound as if you were happy with him. The courts wouldn't let me verify it for myself, they wouldn't let me near you, you know that. Or you should."

"I was happy enough, until he revealed himself to be the damned abusive bastard that he was."

"Heero..."

"Funny, he took everything away from me and gave it to the world instead, and I respected him for it."

"He was family, you couldn't have hated him if you tried. I may not have seen you in person since you were seven, but I still know my son."

"He never acted like 'family,'" the pilot said, his voice filled with bitterness. "'Dr. J-sama,'" he mocked himself in a quiet voice. His fingers clenched the denim jacket that hung from his hand, anger causing him to grip the material so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"He chose you," his mother muttered, "he chose you, because he loved you, and he believed you were strong enough to save the world. He couldn't trust anyone as far as he could trust you."

Intellectually, he had known that, he had known from the beginning why he was given the opportunity to fly Wing Gundam, why the colonies were carelessly placed on his shoulders. He knew that. But he didn't care. He still retained the capacity to feel pain and he was hurt by what his family had done to him. His mother, neglectful to the point that the courts would not allow her near him, his father, renting him out to whoever wanted an accomplice, his grandfather, working so hard to strip him of his humanity, to create a weapon from a person, no one treating him as though he was loved. He was only eight years old when it began, and only sixteen when it ended. He was still a child, he still needed to be loved.

"Heero," his mother said softly, placing her hand on his shoulder, "it's time to come home."

Blue locked on blue, a hand on his shoulder and a loving smile. Vaguely, he remembered a time when she would read him stories before he went to sleep, a time when she cooked food that tasted horrible, but was made with love, a time when they all lived in a small apartment that was always filthy, a time where his only clean clothes were his socks, and no one forced him to brush his hair, a time where his mother and father fought often and loudly in front him. A time where he was a happy little boy who had no idea that his life couldn't get much worse, but would anyway.

"It's all right now," she whispered. "Come home." 

He jammed his left hand into his pocket and slung his jacket over his shoulder with his right. He followed his mother home that night, walking behind her as she hummed a familiar Japanese tune. He allowed himself a smile; after so many miserable years, he could finally go home again.

****

Owari

Disclaimers: Gundam Wing is owned by Sunrise, not me. Here's the difference; Sunrise is a big company that makes anime, I'm a high school student who writes fanfics.

Author Notes: Isn't making up crap about Heero's childhood fun?


End file.
